Who was your first crush and what made them special?
Now this is just hard because I can’t even remember his name properly. I just know that it didn’t make much sense and that its weird that I fancied him of all the lads in my year group. Though I think that’s hindsight talking.
His name was Kevin. For my life I can’t remember his surname, but that’s probably a good thing.
Kevin Something-or-other was in my year group when I moved into secondary school and he was in my House so all of my morning roll calls were with him. He was also reasonably intelligent so he kept up with my set groups too (heh, did that sound snotty? What can I say; I was top set for everything *shrugs*). So he was around a lot.
But it was probably somewhere in the second year that I started to even notice boys. And he was one of the few who didn’t torment me for not wearing makeup and being skinny like the other bimbos of my set group, so I guess I latched onto that. He was just nice actually.
But it all came to a head that Christmas. I’d be quietly keeping it to myself all that time until I was writing up cards to hand out. Then, in a fit of ‘heeeeeeeeeeeey; this will be a grand idea, signed his card ‘lots of love from’ rather than just from. But his was the only card I did that with. And of course, within three hours of handing out the cards the entire class knew.
Now I know how good the adolescent grapevine can be, but then I had no idea. Nor did I have any idea what sort of effect it would have on the rest of the day. Kevin actually took it really well if I recall (as well as a tweleve/thirteen year old can take anything) and just carried on like normal.
That afternoon after school, when I got the bus home, I stayed on an extra two stops because I knew that he lived some way on from me. And then I watched as he got off the bus and wandered up the street. And then realised that I was quite far from my own street and had to walk all the way back. Heh, proper little stalker, huh?
That night at home, I did my homework, wrote a diary entry all about it (I really should look for that actually) and then just forgot about it. And, funnily enough, the next morning, so did everyone else.
It also seemed that in actually vocalising what I felt, I forced myself to realise I didn’t like him all that much after all. Go figure.
My 80 Post Challenge is brought to you with help from Tom Slatin’s 80 Journal Writing Prompts.